Page 85 of Chasing Infinity

As if he’s had a similar train of thought, Noah pushes off the wall and stands. “Well, thanks for the talk, Parks. It was… enlightening. Don’t go spreading my shit around to everyone, yeah? I’m trusting you to not bite me in the ass.”

Standing up with him, I nod my head. “I won’t, promise.”

“Good.” Noah crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me as if debating what to say next. He surprises me again and asks me, “Are you going to the football game tonight?”

“I was thinking about it,” I lie, knowing that I’m going but curious to see what he says.

Noah looks at me for another beat and then sticks his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Maybe I’ll see you there then.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I whisper back.

His gaze holds mine again before he dips his chin and saunters off. I’m left standing in the middle of an empty hallway, my brain spinning, trying to catch up with the events that just transpired.

I took a chance and approached the wounded animal. And instead of getting my head bitten off, I might have—made a friend?

I’m not sure what that was, other than an awkward encounter with my arch-nemesis, who may or may not have called a permanent truce? I will be replaying each moment of this conversation back in my head later, trying to decipher what happened.

I do this even later in the evening at the football game. The team is on the field running through their plays in the attempt to score a touchdown. Meanwhile, my mind is replaying every second of my conversation with Noah from earlier. Each time I run through it again, more questions pop up, and I stash them away to mull over later.

It’s a game against a rival school, so most of the student body showed up dressed in school spirit wear. I’m standing up on the bleachers next to Grace. Eli and Charlie are right in front of us. Eli is dunking pieces of a soft pretzel into hot, melty cheese, and Charlie is cupping his hands around his mouth, shouting at our quarterback, Wyatt. I want to tell Charlie that Wyatt can’t hear him yelling from all the way over here, but I’m too distracted.

My eyes keep sliding over towards where Noah is standing, leaning against the brick wall of the snack bar. I observe him, darting my gaze away whenever he looks over at me. My cheeks heat again, thinking about how we were holding hands earlier in the day. I try not to worry too much about the butterflies rapidly forming in my stomach.

We nearly ran into each other on our way into the stadium before the game. I had been coming from the library, lost in thought, and he was coming from the other way, also not paying attention. We rammed into each other, and his hands had found my shoulders to steady me. Hot sparks of electricity instantly traveled through my body at his touch, and even moreso when I looked up and found him staring down at me.

Noah’s lips were pulled into a thin line, and his eyes narrowed. But instead of yelling at me for not watching where I was going, he asked, “Are you okay?”

My lips had fallen open as I blinked at him stupidly. “Fine. You?”

“Great.”

“Okay.”

At that moment, Noah realized that his hands were still on my shoulders, and he let them fall right away. One of his hands traveled to the back of his neck, and he rubbed nervously. “I’ll let you get back to your friends.”

He bolted off like a horse out of the gate, not giving me a chance to say anything else. I watched him walk away from me, still shell-shocked. Not long after that, I found my friends in the bleachers. They waved me down, and I joined them.

After the game started, I spotted Noah standing by the snack bar, where he’s still perched against the building, his eyes locked on a target in the stands: me. As soon as I suspect that he’s not gazing at me, I glance at him again, immediately regretting it. He hasn’t looked away at all. No, now he’s staring right at me, his brows pulled together. He watches me, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He looks puzzled, as if he is trying to work out a riddle in his head. Finally, he looks away. I can see his jaw clench tight from where I’m sitting.

“Why does Noah keep staring at you?” Grace asks me, suspicion clouding her tone.

I glance at her and then back towards where Noah is. His attention is now wholly on the game playing out on the field. “He and I kind of had a weird moment earlier today.” Grace doesn’t respond right away, so I look back and find her staring at me in shock. “What?”

“You’re going to say that and not expect me to want the whole story?”

I shrug one shoulder. “There’s nothing to tell. He was pretty upset about the election, and I sat with him and talked a little. That’s it.”

“That’s it, huh? And he didn’t attack you verbally, pull on your hair, or drop a raw egg on your head?”

“No, of course not.”

“You say that like it’s outside the realm of possibility. Addison, this is huge! I can’t believe you’re acting so level-headed about this,” she protests. “Didn’t he shove you into a locker just last week?”

I press my lips into a thin line, knowing I still have a sore shoulder from that event, and begrudgingly admit. “Yes, but to be fair, I was in front of his locker.”

“So you’re making excuses for him now, huh?” she asks, though there’s a ring of amusement to her tone. If I know Grace, she’s eating every second of this up.

“Making excuses up for who?” Charlie asks, turning around and looking at me with unasked questions written all over his face. Eli turns around to face me too, a frown playing on the corner of his mouth.

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